FolkloreFolksoul: Columbine Red
by Sky-Pirate-Tat
Summary: Folklore/Folksoul Suzette resists temptation. Spoilers, EllenxSuzette lesbian


_Disclaimer: I don't own them._

_**A/N:** Because I'm not really in a fandom unless I write girlxgirl. SPOILER WARNING AND LESBIAN THEMES._

"I... I must have fainted," Ellen said groggily, searching the room, surprised to find herself in O'Connel's house. Mr. O'Connel himself stared at her, wearing his ever-tired expression; only this time it was different: there was a dull glint of sympathy in his eyes.

"What is it? Did I say something wrong?"

"Rest, Ellen." He raised his hand and gestured to the door.

"Wait! I must see the vide--"

"No!" He shouted. His tone was stern, yet held concern-- almost fatherly.

Ellen's lips parted, about to inquire further, but O'Connel pushed her out the door, sputtering excuses as he did so. Before she knew it, Ellen was standing dumbfounded on his dusty doorstep. Her stomach turned, unsettled by what the contents of the video possibly held.

"Maybe... Suzette will tell me," the blonde said to herself hopefully, walking across the dirt road towards the tomboy's home. "Suzette?" Ellen called, after she knocked, then rattled her hand against the half-rotten door. Impatient at having no one answer, Ellen invited herself in. Halfway through the door she stumbled, surprised by her own aggressive determination.

Suzette seemed to jump and Ellen had a feeling the reaction wasn't from the intrusion at all. It was that iEllen/i had entered her home. Her brown eyes, normally hard and distrusting, were large, and the corners of her mouth were drawn back, as if she were afraid to even speak to Ellen.

"What did I say...?" Ellen asked uneasily. "On the videotape."

"Don't ask me." Suzette shrugged stiffly.

"But I have to know. I don't care what the past holds for me... it bothers me to live the rest of my life wondering... wondering who my mother was, what it was like to live in Doolin as a child..."

Suzette's eyelids drooped and she stared at the floor, hands in her pockets. Her right hand brushed the enamel hilt of her pocket knife, contemplating and resiting the temptation at her fingertips.

"Ellen..." she whispered to herself solemnly. Her eyes raised, hearing the blonde tiptoe towards her. Suzette wished she hadn't uttered the older woman's name. iShe must've thought I was calling for her!/i

"Suzette, I-- please..." Ellen meekly held her hand out. Suzette saw the gesture from the corner of her eyes, then averted her gaze, leaving the other girl's hand to hang in the air awkwardly.

"Just leave. I have nothing more to say to you."

Ellen's eyes fell to the floor dismissively. They stood there for a moment, hanging in a silence that seemed as long as Faery years. They were both surprised that Suzette was the one to pierce the silence. She raised her head up and looked in Ellen's direction, but made sure to keep her eyes away from the girl, looking beyond her shoulders. She slowly approached the older girl, tapping the pocketknife in her pants meditatively. The thoughts running through her head were maddening. Didn't she want revenge on this village for what they did to her family? Didn't Ellen start it all? And yet, Ellen had helped her realize her family weren't all scandals and an abusive mother. Thanks to Ellen, she realized that beneath the madness, there was love-- a love tormented by the events seventeen years ago, the same events that the girl who helped her, had herself created.

Trapped in her thoughts, Suzette found her actions to take on a life of their own. She wrapped an arm around the pale girl and pulled her towards her. Unlike her own body stiffening, Ellen, more accustomed to affection, sunk into the embrace, even if she was confused by Suzette's actions. Ellen lifted her head up and stared hopefully at Suzette, while Suzette eyed the knife she raised behind Ellen. The gleam shone in the faint amber lamplight. The light itself, the meaning of what she was about to do, pierced Suzette's conscience, and her steady arm began to shake as she held the weapon.

"If I were you, I would leave this village now. The past is past for a reason..." She slowly retracted the weapon and with a flick of her fingers, she tucked the blade back into her back pocket.

Ellen pulled away from Suzette and backed away, forcing a smile. "The truth is, I'm afraid but... I still want to know. Thank you for thinking about my wellbeing... I'm sorry for troubling you."

With a nod farewell, Ellen exited the house. As soon as the door closed, Suzette released a low sigh and her rigid body language collapsed into a slack posture. She fell onto the mothball-infested couch, propping her feet on the coffee table, and she stared out the window, still thinking about the impulse still lingering over her-- in her curled hands.

"What was I thinking?" Her upper lip curled in disgust. "I'm starting to act like Mum."


End file.
